Wayne knew that his father had not come into his room to philosophize, and he groped for light as to the real object of the interview. Colonel Craighill took a lead pencil from Wayne’s desk and played with it nervously. Wayne was struck by the fact that his father did not look well to-day; his fine colour was lacking and there were dark lines under his eyes.
“You’d never know from the newspapers that there’s anything wrong. I thought your interview in Boston that our papers copied this morning was quite conclusive.”
Colonel Craighill glanced at his son quickly. Wayne’s tone was perfectly respectful and he met his father’s eyes steadily. Colonel Craighill shrugged his shoulders impatiently.
“We must do what we can to tranquilize the public mind. I was asked to say something in the press occasionally by a number of our strongest men. They seemed to think I was the best person to do it”; and his eyes brightened for a moment at the consciousness that he had been chosen as sponsor for the city’s business interests.
“I have found it necessary to increase my collateral in several places. I don’t quite like being required to do it; the demand comes just at the wrong time for some of my investments. You have some stock, haven’t you, in the Mexican Plantations Company?”
Wayne’s heart gave a big throb and he smiled.
“Oh, no; I haven’t a share—not one.”
“But I thought——”
“Oh, I did have several hundred shares, but I cleaned them out last fall. A friend of mine, a ‘Tech’ man, who’s a mining engineer in Mexico, was in town one day, and I asked him about that scheme and he didn’t give me very flattering reports of it. So I sold out the first chance I got.”
“Do you mind telling me who bought it?”